Gary leaned closer and read it, too.
You think screwing Northcutt is going to keep you safe?
The room went cold.
“C’mon. We’ve only got a second, two at the most.” Gary pulled open the shutters, unlocked and opened the window. Climbed out. “Hurry!”
Lucas clicked off the monitor and hard drive without closing everything down in the proper order. Shoved the chair under the desk the way he’d found it; tried not to think about the dents he’d made on the plastic mat. He climbed out onto the fire escape, pressed the tips of his fingers over the slats in the shutters and pulled them closed. Slid the window almost all the way down. Another quarter inch and he would’ve had it.
The men ducked when they heard Wentzel say, “Ki moun ki Ia?”
They raced down the stairs doing their level best not to make any more noise than they already were. Once they touched bottom, they continued running around the corner. Didn’t slow down until they were at least a block away.
“We forgot to close his frickin’ office door, Gary.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Any idea what he said?”
“Yeah. He asked ‘who is there’. Damn. How close was that? I don’t think he had enough time to climb out on the balcony and see us before we got around the corner, do you? We entered his place illegally. Cap’n Foret will have a shit fit.”
“If he finds out. And I don’t think Wentzel will be the one to tell him. He has too much of his own shit to account for. As one cop to another, though, I hope he finds out the window is unlocked. I’d hate to hear the guy had been robbed and murdered in his sleep on account of us.”
Gary smiled. “You’re a better man than me.”
They stood on the corner of the intersection, waited for a break in the traffic.
“Maybe. Could be I have another reason for keeping the asshole alive.” Lucas lifted the box out of his pocket, and opened it. Inside were a gold cross and chain, a wedding band, a cop’s badge. The fourth item sent a chill down their spines. A red butterfly-shaped hairclip with several strands of red hair caught on the hinge.
CHAPTER 55
Detectives Northcutt and Cantin entered the captain’s office once again, this time acting no different than schoolboys who’d been sent to the principal’s office for misbehaving.
Oliver Foret observed their hangdog expressions, as they stood almost shoulder-to-shoulder. “I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”
“You don’t,” said Gary.
Lucas stepped forward, and placed the box on the desk.
“Well, gee, fellas, it’s awful pretty, but honestly, you shouldn’t have. Honestly. And Christmas is still a month away. Can’t be a birthday present. Mine’s come and gone. I’ve never heard of, nor have I ever given or received, a Thanksgiving present. So, what’ve we got here?”
“Open it. Sir.” Lucas stepped back in line.
Captain Foret lifted the box and opened it. The song about one of these things is not like the others crossed his mind. The badge. A cop’s badge, as in Renee Yeager’s badge. Other items found their fixed place in his memory. Nolin. Luce. He set the box down. Using the pointy tip of a letter opener, he held the hairclip close to his eyes. Put on his glasses. “Something’s on it. Some kind of sticky stuff. Syrup? Pinesap? Real question is, who does it belong to?”
“With all due respect, sir, you should be asking where’d the box come from.” Gary swallowed hard. Braced for the tongue-lashing Foret was known for.
Foret flicked his gaze between the men as though watching a Ping-Pong match.
He sighed, wearily.
Stood up, but remained behind his desk.
“Talk to me. And no matter how bad it is, and I have a feeling it’s seriously bad, I want you to tell me the truth and nothing but.”
“We searched Jeff Wentzel’s place without your knowledge or consent. No warrant. We went on gut instinct alone. We,” Gary glimpsed sideways at Lucas who stared at the wall behind Foret, “I mean, I knew something wasn’t right when I saw Wentzel taking notes during the briefing. He wrote about Nolin’s necklace.”
“A note? He wrote a note so you two geniuses figured it’s okay to break and enter?”
“It’s more complicated than that, sir,” said Lucas.
Foret sat down. Propped his elbows on his desk and tented his fingers. He glared at Lucas. “You mean more complicated than explaining why two decorated detectives committed a crime, a crime serious enough to cost you both your badges, all on, what did you call it Northcutt? Oh. I remember. Fucking gut instinct,” he shouted. The men winced.
“You’re overlooking a crucial element here, Captain Foret. Wentzel had Renee Yeager’s badge in his possession,” Gary stated, flatly. “A lot of us watched her tuck the thing inside her bra. Unlike Nolin and Sarri, Renee wasn’t left in the alley for hours where someone else could’ve come along and messed with her body or stolen the badge. She’d been taken away. We don’t even know if she’s dead. But it’s safe to say only her kidnapper had the opportunity to seize the badge. So far, that would be Officer Jeff Wentzel.”
“We have a plan,” said Lucas.
Foret sighed again in frustration. “I’m listening.”
“When Wentzel goes on duty tonight, we’ll put the box where we found it. Then shadow him until he gives us probable cause for a legal search. Hopefully, when we return to his apartment later with a search warrant, and I’m sure we will, the box will still be there.”
Gary nodded in agreement. “And hopefully, he hasn’t already noticed it’s gone.”
Since his hand had been forced, Captain Foret agreed to go along with their plan.
CHAPTER 56
Northcutt and Cantin climbed the fire escape. Found the window locked. “So much for this idea.” Even though he knew Wentzel was on duty, Gary felt the need to keep his voice down. The men took their time. No need to rush. Captain Foret intentionally ordered Wentzel to patrol the north side of the city. For the next few hours he’d be miles away.
Entering the apartment with ease through the front door, they didn’t see any noticeable differences other than a coffee mug turned upside down in a dish drainer, and Wentzel’s office door stood wide open this time around.
Cantin went straight to the utility shelf. Placed the little box the way he found it, to the best of his memory.
Northcutt booted up the computer. Looked at Cantin and shrugged. “Might as well. Wentzel won’t be home until midnight.”
When Cantin opened the email account they found it empty. Everything had been deleted. Inbox, outbox, saved and sent drafts. Even the recycle bin had been cleaned out.
“Let’s assume he knows we, or someone else, accessed his account. Question is how did he know?” Gary scanned everything on and around the computer desk. “There.” He pointed to a mini-cam mounted on the top shelf of the hutch.
On one side of the camera, several crime novels stood spine side out on a heavy chrome rack in the shape of handcuffs. On the other side were a subwoofer and two short speakers, all wired to the computer.
Lucas examined the tiny security camera the best he could without touching it. “Shit. How’d we miss it before? Or did we? Maybe it’s new. Hmm, if it’s new, why’d he install it?”
“Wait. Shouldn’t there be a little red light or something to show whether or not it’s on? Every security camera I’ve ever seen lights up once it’s switched on.”
“This might be one of those cameras I’ve heard of where people can link up online and actually see one another. A webcam, I think it’s called.” Lucas shuddered. “I don’t know about you, but his guy and his apartment give me the creeps. We’ve done what we came for. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Hold on a second.” Gary opened the top drawer of the filing cabinet. Much to his surprise the photos were still there.
Wentzel’s phone rang, startling them. They stood stock-still and waited. The answering machine clicked on after the third
ring. A soft whirring sound, followed by a familiar voice.
“Hello, it’s BJ Donovan.”
Gary walked up to the phone. Visualized her talking on her phone. Saw her shake her head once to toss back long strands of blonde hair. “Something’s come up. I’m canceling our appointment for Saturday.” Her voice sounded uneven. Was she in her car driving down the highway with the window open? “I’ll get back to you later.”
Eerie silence.
Gary and Lucas exchanged a baffled expression.
“I haven’t been able to reach her for the past few days. Every time I called she either didn’t answer or her phone wasn’t on. But here she is, leaving messages for...”
Lucas had chosen to stay out of it, whatever it was. He didn’t have a clear understanding of Northcutt and Donovan’s relationship. Gary was into her, that much he knew. Lucas suspected the feelings weren’t mutual, though. He didn’t know for sure. Gary hadn’t confided in him, which said a lot about their relationship.
Lucas locked the door behind them. They proceeded to the stairwell, preferring not to use the elevator for superstitious reasons.
“Wanna go get a beer? I have something to tell you.”
Okay, so I jumped the gun, thought Lucas, hurt feelings set aside. “Sure.”
On the sidewalk in front of Wentzel’s apartment, Gary checked one street after the other. He pointed to his right. “I think the bar’s that way. Remember? The one we saw Wentzel stumble out of the morning we found Nolin?”
“Yep. We said something about it being too early to be drinking.” Lucas stopped walking. “He’d worn a hoodie. A hoodie on a hot summer day? Damn. The witnesses said someone tore out of the alley wearing a hoodie.”
“Are we sure we’re talking about the same day Nolin’s body was found?” He glanced at his watch for no reason. “I’m sorry. I can’t get my mind off BJ’s phone call. Why would she call him? And what appointment was she referring to?”
“He called her Suite Sue in the email. These two got something going on?”
“I don’t know. If they are online lovers or whatever, why does she have to make an appointment to see him?” Gary frowned. “Appointment. An odd choice of a word, don’t you think?”
CHAPTER 57
Unsuccessful in reaching BJ by phone, again, Gary grew a little more apprehensive in light of her call to Wentzel.
While in the bar, Northcutt and Cantin agreed to hold off for a while on telling Captain Foret what they’d done. Lucas had a dinner party he’d rather not miss. Gary, too, had a plan.
Leaving the sedan in their assigned slot in the parking area of the police department, they parted company. Gary got in his Mustang, and drove straight to Sonnier’s house.
Still a couple of blocks away, he could already see her car was gone. Two cars occupied the space inside the garage, and he knew hers wasn’t one of them. He parked in the driveway. Strode toward the door, shuffling his keys around a metal ring until he found the one he wanted. Out of force of habit he knocked on the door. Entered, then stood in the foyer. The refrigerator hummed a constant greeting.
Gary checked the spare bedroom first. The bed was neatly made. He opened the closet. Nothing. Not even a stray clothes hanger. About to turn away, he spotted a little piece of blue-lined paper torn from a notebook: eld Lane, 5:30
He did not have a clue. Obviously the last three letters of a street name, but which one? He opened his billfold and set the paper in the middle. Tried to remember where he’d left his city street map.
Okay. So she moved out. “And didn’t care enough about me to pick up the phone and tell me.” I guess she didn’t need as much protection from her stalker as I assumed. He rubbed his jaw. Did she even have a stalker to begin with? I’ve never seen any physical evidence.
Gary had a hard time accepting reality. He’d never been a one-night stand before. It was not a good feeling.
Moving from one room to another, at a leisurely pace, he inspected the rest of the house. No signs of violence. Anywhere. He wasn’t surprised. Quite clear she’d left of her own free will. He noticed she had dusted and vacuumed before leaving. Thought that was considerate of her since Laertes was kind enough to allow her, a total stranger, to stay under his roof.
Right when he put a hand on the doorknob, it came to him. Damn, she’s probably at the restaurant. Okay. She saw no reason to stay here, went home, and then it was back to business as usual. A quick check of the time. He hoped Lucas remembered to bring the wedding gift he’d hidden in his desk at the office.
Well, might as well get something to eat. “And I know just the place.”
He drove fast to Wild Capers, on the lookout for traffic cops all the way.
Gary waited, patiently, for the maître d’ to return from seating a party of four. He stopped a busboy walking by. “Excuse, me, is Chef Donovan here?”
“Yessir, she’s in the kitchen.”
“Ah. Has she been here all evening?”
“I don’t know. Look, mister, I been havin’ to go to the bat’room for a half hour. Talk to the maître d’.” He pointed to a man dressed in a black suit and bowtie.
“Thanks.” Gary stepped aside.
The maître d’ approached. “Bonswa! Komon ou ye?”
Gary stood with his hands on his hips. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“N’ap boule! Good! I am Beau. How many in your party, sir?”
Gary smiled. Second time he’d been asked the same question. Decided to bring Lucas with him the next time. “Just me.”
Beau raised an eyebrow in a hoity-toit manner, flattened a menu against his chest, and turned on his heel. “Follow me, please.” His hair gel shimmered under diffused lighting.
Seated at a table meant for four, Gary accepted the menu, but left it closed. “Who’ll be preparing my meal? Chef Donovan? Is she here?”
Beau bent slightly at the waist. In a low tone he said, “For a change. Ever since she got her book published she’s been flitting all around the south coast.”
“Doing what?”
Beau stood erect. “Why, a book signing tour, monsieur,” he said equivalent to: What else would she be doing, dumbass? “Your server will appear before long. Enjoy your meal.”
“Could you please tell BJ, er, Mrs. Donovan, I’m here. My name is Northcutt,” Gary refrained from using his title.
“Wi.” Beau walked toward the front, wiggled a finger at the busboy exiting the bathroom, and spoke to him. They glanced at Gary. The younger man disappeared into the kitchen.
To his server, Gary said, “I’ll have spaghetti with allemande caper sauce, and iced tea.”
>+<|>+<
The busboy tapped his boss on her shoulder.
“What is it, Clovis? Can’t you see I’m busy?” BJ continued stirring mashed potatoes.
“A customer said to tell you he has no cut.”
She turned and looked at him. Frowned. “He has no what?”
Clovis jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the closed kitchen door. “No cut.” He went to the counter, and retrieved an empty buspan.
BJ peered through the round window on the door where she was able to view much of the dining room. Behind her were the clatter of dishes and the chatter of food orders being called out. She saw Detective Northcutt. No cut, I get it. Dammit, is he following me now? Does he think he owns me after one fucking night together… spent fucking? She untied her apron, balled it up and threw it at an empty dish cart. Pushed the door open, stretched her lips into a tight line.
Gary saw her coming toward him. He stood. Smiled ear to ear, relieved to see she’s fine.
“Hello, Detective.”
Her icy greeting froze the smile on his face. He cleared his throat. “Hello, BJ. I, um, I was hungry.” Ah jeez. “Couldn’t think of a better place to eat.” Stop it, you idiot. “How’s your dog?” How’s your dog? Ohmigod. “Tomi, is it? Have you had a chance to talk to Dylan? He adores him, by the way. The dog, I mean. Dylan adores the dog. Your dog.” Holy
moly.
She remained stone faced. “No. I haven’t had a chance to call Dylan,” she hesitated, “or anyone else, for that matter. The story, it’s, well, you’re a writer, you know how it is. As for Tomi, I’m considering giving him to your friend. Dylan seems nice enough. Frank’s gone a lot, and I’m starting to be, what with a new book tour and such, so Tomi would be left at the kennel way too much. He’s Frank’s dog more than mine, but,” But what? She’d completely forgotten about the animal. “I care about him. Do you think Dylan would keep him, permanently?”
“I can’t say. Want me to ask him?”
Good god, is there no end to this conversation? “I’d appreciate it. Well, I really must go.”
“Sure. Nice to see you again, by the way.” She turned to leave… Ask to really see her again. Now, dammit. …and walked away.
Gary slumped in his seat. Resting his chin in his hand, he admired the oil painting above his table, depicting a picturesque street scene in… Italy?
“Want to have coffee with me at Binyay’s, sometime?”
He flinched when she spoke, surprised by her sudden and quiet return to his table. “Yes,” he blurted, “I-I would.” He tried to get to his feet, but she stood in his way.
Her eyes turned black as coal and her lips thinned to a grimace. An optical illusion? Goose bumps raised the hairs on his arms and legs.
“I’ll be in touch,” she whispered.
The song Witchy Woman erupted in his mind making his heart skip a beat.
CHAPTER 58
MIDNIGHT
South of New Orleans, the evening tide mirrored the silver moon and led her safe and sound to Chalmette. She followed the rhythmic beat of the drums. The swampland teemed with other sounds, as well. Birds. Insects. Reptiles. Once in a while, she’d hear the splash of water. The air was curiously warm for this time of the year. She shoved aside Spanish moss hanging low on bald cypress trees. The music enveloped her, pulled her in. She inhaled deeply, exhaled sexually. Thorns snagged the hem of her long skirt. She moved forward, uncaring.
Long Night Moon (Bad Mojo Book 1) Page 16
